


The Climb

by impalagirl, wilddragonflying



Series: Roleplays [55]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (Bucky is doing better), (Steve again), (Steve has it), (steve isn't very healthy or well adjusted here), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Hydra Cap, M/M, Recovery, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, but not the Spencer way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 22:18:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10728399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalagirl/pseuds/impalagirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: Leto takes advantage of the flurry of activity in the vault to pull Zima into a corner; they're standing near a map of the city they're in - Washington, D.C., apparently - and if anyone looks over, they'll appear to be studying it. "We need to talk."Zima's look of surprise is gone in an instant, schooled into an intent expression as he takes in the map before them. "About what?"Leto points to a random spot on the map, keeping up the ruse as he says, "Memories.""What?"





	The Climb

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! So honestly I'd had this idea, of where Cap fell instead of/with Bucky, in my head for a while, and after Fuckface Spencer revealed his horrible idea, we decided to go ahead and do this plot! So this was literally titled "The one with Hydra!Cap but better" while we were working on it haha
> 
> Wanted to put some additional warnings here: In this one, Steve and Bucky do NOT have a healthy relationship. They're rather codependent on each other, and Steve treats Bucky kind of badly in a couple of spots, although Bucky usually gives as good as he gets. Either way, this still is probably the most unhealthy relationship we've written. Steve and Bucky do care about each other, but that doesn't magically make the relationship a good one.
> 
> Steve also has a bit of an episode, I suppose you could say, where he essentially switches off, and the personality he had while with Hydra takes over. I just want to make clear that this is fiction, and I have no personal experience with Dissociative Identity Disorder, but tried to treat this as respectfully as possible. Still, this portrayal should not be taken as an example of what this disorder is like for real people.

_November 22, 1963_

Leto watches the crowd carefully; their handlers were _very_ adamant that this man - the one in the vehicle currently traveling down Main Street of Dallas, Texas, along with his wife and another couple - must die, in order to shape the course of history. It’s been a long time since the two soldiers worked in the States, but it was easy enough to adopt the English language and American mannerisms long enough to arrange what needed to be done. 

He misses the weight of the shield that usually hangs off of his back; without it, he feels vulnerable, although he is far from it. Leto is dressed in civilian clothes specially modified to hide the handguns and knives he is carrying in order to make sure that the plan proceeds as it should. The scapegoat is in place, and soon the target will be in position as well. " _Target vehicle is turning,_ " he murmurs, trusting in the earpieces provided by their handlers to carry his words to Zima.

" _I see it,_ " a voice in his ear answers after a moment. " _Waiting for a shot._ "

Leto doesn't say anything more; his job is to cover the close quarters aspects of their jobs, and Zima covers the ranged. In this case, that means sniping, and Zima is very good at what he does; Leto trusts his judgment. 

Half a heartbeat later, two shots ring out - and in the back of the car, President John F. Kennedy slumps against his wife, already bleeding. " _Shot taken,_ " Zima mutters in Leto's ear. " _Target's been hit._ "

" _Copy. En route to intercept second target._ " The second target, of course, was the man who would be blamed for this death: Lee Harvey Oswald, a former United States Marine who had attempted to defect to the Soviet Union. 

Zima grunts his acknowledgement and starts packing up his gear. His part in this is over now; all that's left for him to do is meet their handlers at the rendezvous point and wait. His descent back onto the street goes unnoticed, the crowd too busy screaming for the man in the car, and he slips away without being seen. Now it's Leto's turn.

* * *

It's easy enough to begin herding the scapegoat towards the theater where he will be apprehended - until he's stopped by a policeman, who begins questioning him. Leto can't take the chance that Oswald will say or do something to jeopardize the plan, so he removes the threat.

One shot is all it takes, and then Oswald is off again, Leto hot on his heels. It takes several hours for the local law enforcement to take Oswald into custody, but once he's been apprehended for a crime he didn't commit, Leto's job is done. It takes him only a few minutes to reach the rendezvous point, and once he's safely inside, he gives Zima a curious look. " _Two shots?_ "

Zima shrugs. " _It couldn't look like a professional hit._ "

Leto nods. " _A good point,_ " he concedes, handing over the weapons he had used in this mission. 

Their handlers take their time checking everything over, but when they're done, the man closest to Zima claps him on the back and gives him and Leto a tight-lipped smile. " _You did well,_ " he tells them both. " _You can give your report when we get back._ "

* * *

_December 17, 1991_

It's a cold night, not that Leto notices. Not after where he and Zima had come from, anyway. It's nearing midnight before he spots the target approaching; a beige station wagon, belonging to one Howard Stark. Stark isn't the target, but what he possesses is. Leto gives them a three-second head start before revving his motorcycle, flicking on the headlight. " _Target approaching,_ " he murmurs, driving out onto the road as he waits for Zima to take his shot.

Zima doesn't speak, but the gunshot that rips through the night air an instant later is answer enough. The back right tyre of the approaching vehicle blows out, sending the car spinning before crashing head-first into a tree. There's a moment of complete stillness, and then a crackle of static in Leto's ear. " _Movement inside the vehicle. Driver is alive and conscious._ "

Leto swears under his breath; he doesn't much care for this part. Still, he knows his job: No witnesses, and it must look like an accident. By the time he gets to the vehicle, the driver has managed to open the door and fall out of the seat, though he hasn't gotten far. Leto takes his time stopping his bike and setting the kickstand before he climbs off and strides over. 

The man, one Howard Stark, is begging for Leto to look after his wife, who is apparently still in the vehicle. Leto ignores his pleas, instead grabbing the man by the collar of his shirt and roughly shoving him back into the car; only once Howard is re-seated does recognition crawl over his features. 

"Steve?"

Images flash past Leto's eyes, too fast to be truly comprehended, but the momentary confusion and _wrongness_ that washes over him is enough to make him snap, even if only momentarily. "Who the hell is Steve?" he snarls, even as he grabs the back of the man's head and slams it forward into the wheel, one-two-three times. The third time leaves him still and silent, slumped over the leather. Beside him, the woman - his wife, St- _Leto_ assumes moans quietly, starting to sob, and Leto easily vaults the front of the car, reaching in through the shattered glass of her window to snap her neck, quick and clean. 

Leto takes a moment to gather himself, bringing his harsh breathing under control before he speaks. " _Witnesses eliminated,_ " he says quietly, withdrawing a handgun and shooting out a nearby security camera - something he should have spotted sooner. " _Retrieving package._ " 

* * *

_February 21, 1999_

" _Natalia,_ " Zima barks when Leto floors her for the third time in twenty minutes. He pushes away from the wall and leans down to offer her his metal hand. " _Get up._ "

Natalia glares at the brunette, ignoring the outstretched hand in favor of rolling herself to her feet. She is one of the top students of the Red Room; she shouldn't be put down three times in a row! " _Again,_ " she demands. 

Leto snorts. " _You have proven you cannot handle me,_ " he says. " _Perhaps you can handle Zima._ " Natalia is a promising student, yes - but she has much to learn. Leto fights in a manner similar to her own, a technique that his handlers had elected not to train out of him, claiming that it might be useful, to make people expect him to fight like the large man he is, not to use the tactics of someone much smaller than he. As his technique is similar to hers, he’s able to easily anticipate and counter her every move, a talent Natalia will need to pick up as well, or she will be removed from the Red Room. 

Zima nods and trades places with Leto, so it's him squaring up to this child in the middle of the room. She is good - but he doesn't think she's good enough, not yet. He smirks at her. " _Show me what you've learned._ "

Natalia has seen Zima fight before, and she's confident that this time she'll be able to at least hold her own; so with only a moment to gather herself and her thoughts, she launches herself at her opponent, mind racing to take in all of the information she can, to twist it against him. 

She's good, Zima will give her that. Fast and sharp and agile, knows how to predict his movements and use his strength against him. But her similarities with Leto also prove to be her undoing when up against Zima, who has been sparring with Leto for as long as he can remember. Natalia does well, but Zima does floor her eventually. " _Again,_ " he spits, and this time he doesn't offer to help her up.

It's the longest Natalia has managed to last against one of these men, the famed and barely-whispered-about Soldiers, and she's immediately back on her feet, barely hesitating before she's attacking again. She manages to last longer this time, but in the end she is still put on the floor. She tries once again, and this time - using what she's observed about Zima's style during the past two bouts, she manages to put him on the floor, on his stomach with one knee between his shoulder blades and his human arm a twitch away from being dislocated at the shoulder.

It must be agonisingly painful, but Zima doesn't cry out, just growls, " _Enough!_ " and slaps his metal hand down on the mat. When Natalia releases him, he gets up on his own and meets her gaze, his chest heaving just as hard as hers is. " _You did well,_ " he tells her. " _We're done for today._ "

Natalia knows better than to let her pleasure show too obviously, so she settles for a small smirk, just barely a lift of one corner of her mouth. " _You did well, too,_ " she dares to say. " _Thank you for the training._ " 

Zima smirks right back, not even bothering to hide his appreciation of Natalia as he looks her up and down. " _Our pleasure_ ," he says. " _Make sure you do better tomorrow._ "

Leto, who is neither blind nor stupid, does nothing but give Natalia a short, jerky nod when she looks at him. He does nothing until he knows that he and Zima are safely in the blind corner, the one not covered by any security cameras, on their way back to their quarters for a debriefing; once he knows they won't be seen, the blond uses his height and weight advantage to shove his partner roughly against the wall, pinning him there with his entire body. " _What was that?_ " he demands. 

They both know Leto couldn't hold him if Zima didn't want him to, but Zima goes willingly with a deep laugh, that smirk back on his face. " _I don't know what you're talking about._ "

" _Liar,_ " Leto snarls. 

" _What's it to you?_ " Zima asks. " _Jealous?_ "

" _You're mine,_ " Leto growls. " _No one touches you but me._ "

Zima laughs again. " _Is that so?_ " he asks, testing the strength of Leto's hold.

Leto growls, wordless this time as he presses himself closer to Zima, one hand falling down to press against Zima's rapidly hardening cock. " _It is,_ " he insists, voice low as he rolls his palm against the front of Zima's pants.

Zima's breath leaves him in a shaky gasp, his hips rolling up to meet Leto's hand, but the smirk doesn't fade for a second. " _Prove it._ "

Leto checks to make sure that there is no one around, and he finally lets a smirk take over his own expression. " _I will,_ " he says confidently, not putting any space between them as he slides to his knees, reaching for Zima's zipper. 

* * *

_June 23, 2009_

Leto watches the road carefully; a lot of their missions seem to take place on roads and around vehicles, for some reason. This time, the pair are in southern Ukraine, near a little place called Odessa, tracking a scientist. The man has someone watching out for him; an agent that their handlers are not happy about seeing. Neither Leto nor Zima know who it is, but they're prepared for the worst. 

This time, the targets are being herded towards a more remote location; if this agent is as good as their handlers' anxiety implies, then they will put up a fight, and this time Hydra doesn't want any more casualties than needed. " _Target location?_ " Leto requests, scanning the road.

" _Approaching,_ " Zima answers. " _Preparing to take out the vehicle. Are you ready?_ "

" _Ready,_ " Leto confirms.

Like he's done a hundred times before, Zima shoots out the tyres of the target vehicle as soon as it comes into range. The agent is out of the car in a flash of red hair, dragging their target out of the backseat and covering him as she looks around, searching for the source of the shot. Zima doesn't move a muscle; she won't make him, and even if she does, she'll never see Leto coming.

Leto takes his time approaching, doing his best to stay out of sight - and it works. He manages to surprise the agent, tackling her from behind and rolling her off of the target - but she recovers quickly. Too quickly; Leto doesn't get a chance to take out the target, too busy defending himself from the agent's ferocious - and familiar - attacks. They grapple and spar, fighting furiously as Leto tries to eliminate the target, and the agent fights to stop him.

It's when she lands on his shoulders, attempting to use her weight and momentum to wrest him to the ground, that Leto gets a flash of memory, something that feels both right and out of place at once: _Sparring with a red-haired young woman, someone who fights too much like himself to ever beat him, but she beats Zima, pins him and almost manages to disable his arm, works harder and harder until the day she finally fights Leto to a draw._

He barely manages to stay upright, throwing her off and to the ground; she immediately covers the target, who is still cowering on the ground, with her own body, and Leto freezes. " _Natalia?_ "

The agent freezes, but doesn't relax for an instant. " _Leto,_ " she says. " _What--_ " The rest of her question is lost in a pained cry as a bullet rips it's way through her abdomen; it brings her to her knees, but that's nothing compared to the man behind her, who folds like a marionette with its strings cut, dead before he hits the ground.

" _Leto,_ " Zima snarls in his ear, barely audible over the agent's gasping breaths. " _Get out of there._ "

Leto stands frozen for a moment, but another growl from the comm moves him, and he runs. He'll be punished for this, he knows, but... He almost welcomes the punishment, if it'll get the memories to _stop._

* * *

_9 April, 2014_

Waking up from cryofreeze is never a pleasant experience; this time, however, is worse than usual. They hadn't wiped him before returning him to cryofreeze the last time, and so Leto's frozen dreams had not been truly dreams, he suspects. They had been too... _real_ , for lack of a better word.

He has no time to linger on those dream-memories, though; he and Zima, who he can hear coughing as he wakes, are in an unfamiliar facility; it looks almost like a vault of some kind. There is an unfamiliar man standing to the sidelines as the handler repeats the code phrases that ensure Leto and Zima's compliance; Leto doesn't particularly care for the look of him. 

That's the last independent thought he has before the code phrase is finished; then, the man is stepping forward and giving them their orders.

* * *

The mission isn't their first to go south, but it does so in such a spectacular fashion that both Soldiers know without having to see their handlers' faces that there will be serious consequences if they can't fix it. Hydra are tracking Fury from the moment he disappears, and it's only a matter of time until they get their second chance; in the meantime, they've been left alone to regroup, and work out how to make sure that they don't fail this time.

Leto takes advantage of the flurry of activity in the vault to pull Zima into a corner; they're standing near a map of the city they're in - Washington, D.C., apparently - and if anyone looks over, they'll appear to be studying it. " _We need to talk._ "

Zima's look of surprise is gone in an instant, schooled into an intent expression as he takes in the map before them. " _About what?_ "

Leto points to a random spot on the map, keeping up the ruse as he says, " _Memories._ "

" _What?_ "

Leto moves his hand, and speaks without looking up. " _I had dreams, while we were sleeping. Dreams that felt like memories. It has happened while I am awake, also._ "

Zima frowns, but he doesn't look angry. " _Memories about what?_ "

" _Our lives before Hydra._ "

Zima does look at Leto then, his eyes wide and curious. " _Tell me._ "

Leto frowns, thinking. " _We were friends, before. Brothers,_ " he says quietly. " _We lived in America. I don't know how to explain..._ "

" _Then don't,_ " Zima says quickly, glancing at the man approaching from behind Leto. " _We'll talk later._ "

Leto knows how to read his partner, and immediately switches topics. " _Good. I need to confirm the locations of the SHIELD agents likely to be close to the target,_ " he says - and realizes that is not actually a bad plan. 

Leto moves away, and Zima gives the man who interrupted them a tight smile rather than watch him go. Nothing that Leto said rung any bells, but that doesn't mean he's not right. Zima wonders what else he'll remember, given time.

* * *

They take out the target; Zima shoots him through the wall of an apartment building, where the target has been hiding with a top-level agent. By the time the agent reaches the rooftop Zima had used, the two Soldiers are long gone.

The next day finds them with new orders: The agent who had been harboring Fury, and the man who had helped her recover sensitive information. Zima is given the man, and Leto the agent; surveillance reports them traveling on an overpass, and Leto takes care of the vehicle this time, literally tearing the steering wheel out through the windshield while his team's van sends the vehicle into a roll. Leto has his shield this time, the silver-coated metal glinting in the sunlight as he advances on his target, who has escaped over the bridge. He pays the man no attention; he is Zima's problem.

He catches up with the agent quickly enough, and this time she recognises him first. " _Leto_ ," Natalia says, her eyes wide and desperate, afraid - and then, "Steve. Steve Rogers."

_A woman standing over him, expression disappointed as she points to a broken vase; he hates disappointing her, this woman he loves more than anyone -_

_"My name's Bucky, what's yours?""_

_"Steve Rogers, huh? Congratulations, son; looks like your tour's finally going overseas, bring some joy to the boys over there."_

_"I thought you were smaller."_

_"Steve Rogers." A man, small in stature, looks like a mole - Arnim Zola. "I never dared to hope that I would have you in my grasp. We have great things planned for you, Captain." There's another table on the other side of Zola, and Steve can see Bucky laying on it, pale as the ice they'd fallen onto, and Steve's breath catches in his throat. If he'd been captured, fine, but not Bucky, Bucky didn't have the serum, he wouldn't -_

"No," Ste- _Leto_ snarls lunging for the woman - for Natalia, the girl he trained, the girl who looked up to him, that he was reluctantly impressed by - "That is not my name."

He's off-balance, caught unawares, and it's too easy for Natalia to evade him. "It is," she says. "It's Steve Rogers, and your pal over there beating up _my_ pal is James Barnes."

"Lies," Leto insists, attacking again. "That is not us."

Natalia dodges again, and it's a closer call this time but it's still too easy. "Bucky!" she cries. "You called him Bucky!"

More flashes, but Leto shoves them away. "So what if I did?" he growls, hand going to his belt to retrieve the knife there as he attacks. "That's not us!"

"It is!" Natalia shouts. She blocks Leto's attack and holds him fast. "It can be again. Please! You're Captain _fucking_ America!"

Natalia has obviously been out of the Red Room for a long time; she's picked up enough tricks that it is actually a challenge for Leto to reverse their positions, shoving the woman up against the nearest car, holding her there with the knife at her throat as he leans in close. "I am _not_ that man," he snarls. "My name is Leto, and I am a Soldier."

"You don't have to be," Natalia insists, her voice strained. "You can get out, make things right."

"And why would we do that?" Including Zima isn't even a question; he’s Leto's partner, and Leto would never leave him behind. 

"Because you're not a killer, Steve!" Natalia hisses. "Neither of you are. They're using you; they're _abusing_ you!"

"This is who I am," Leto says, voice low and threatening. "This is what I do - I complete the mission, and right now, that is killing _you._ " 

"Then kill me," Natalia says. "But do it knowing that for the first time you had a choice, and you made the wrong one."

Leto goes so far as pressing the knife hard enough to draw blood, but then he pauses; something is telling him this is wrong; that this murder would be one he couldn't walk away from. "Attack," he tells her, voice quiet. "Make it look convincing, and get the hell out of here." 

Natalia gives him a fleeting smile, and attacks.

* * *

Zima's target, one Sam Wilson, managed to evade him as well; apparently, he had a pair of high-tech wings. Leto doesn't comment beyond a gruff, " _She's learned a lot,_ " when asked how Natalia escaped. His mind is too busy racing, slotting memories into place, and just before they reach the vault, Leto turns and speaks, in a voice low enough for only Zima to hear. " _She knew us. Our history, before Hydra took us._ " 

" _How?_ " Zima murmurs.

" _SHIELD had files - and what I remember... They match. We've been lied to, Zima._ "

" _Lied to? About what?_ "

" _About who we were. We didn't choose this life like they told us we did. We were American, and fought for them. We fought against Hydra in the war._ "

" _Leto,_ " Zima hisses. " _You don't know what you're saying._ "

" _I do,_ " Leto insists. " _My name is not Leto - it is Steve Rogers. Yours is James Barnes. We grew up together in America, and fought together against Hydra in the second world war._ " 

And Zima doesn't want to hear it, doesn't want to believe him - but Leto's words ring true. There's been something tugging at the back of his mind ever since he and Leto last spoke of memories, and maybe this is it. No, he's _sure_ this is it. "Steve," he whispers.

And Leto lets himself hear the name - _really_ hear it, for the first time in decades. "Bucky," he answers with a slight smile. "We need to find the truth." 

But Zima - _Bucky_ \- doesn't look thrilled by that idea. "How?"

Steve looks around the transport; they're slowing, a sign they're reaching the vault. "Natalia got out," he says. "We can, too. There aren't many guards, mostly scientists. We get out, and we stay low." 

"They'll find us," Bucky says. "They'll _hurt_ us."

"We're the best operatives they have; we're the best-trained. We can hide from them," Steve says, though he sounds like he's trying to convince both of them. 

"Where would we go?" Bucky asks. "What would we do?"

"New York, maybe," Steve says. "But first we need to get out - are you with me?" Now that he remembers, Steve has no intention of staying with Hydra. 

Bucky nods. "Always," he says. 

Steve smiles, and this time it's full of deadly promise as the doors to their transport slide open.

* * *

It's laughably easy to escape Hydra; they haven't tried to escape in decades, according to Steve's memories; not since shortly after they were first captured. The agents and scientists have grown complacent, and they end up paying for it with their lives. Steve and Bucky take only the weapons they already have on them and some extra ammo before they leave; neither of them has any interest in hanging around for longer than necessary.

They lay low for a few days, watching the news coverage of the helicarrier crash, and the reveal of Hydra inside of SHIELD, and SHIELD's fall as well. Natalia - apparently now going by the name 'Natasha' - managed to dump all of SHIELD's files onto the Internet, whatever that is, and the whole world it seems is up in arms over the information that has been revealed. Steve and Bucky hide out for a while, until their curiosity gets the better of them when Steve spots a flyer about an exhibit in the Smithsonian Museum, about the Howling Commandos - and his and Bucky's faces are on it. Not their faces as they appear now, rough and unkempt, but as Steve remembers them during the war.

He and Bucky dress as inconspicuously as they're able to before they enter the museum. Steve has to pause when he catches sight of some dummies dressed in replicas of the uniforms of the Howling Commandos - his mind automatically assigns the dummies faces and names, and he sucks in a sharp breath as memories wash over him. Bucky sticks close as they continue through the exhibit, taking in the information offered.

Bucky left for the war first; shortly after that, Steve managed to secure himself a spot in Dr. Erskine's experimental program, to create an army of super soldiers. Steve was the only subject - a success, but the rest of the serum as well as the formula for it was lost when Dr. Erskine was assassinated. Steve spent the majority of the next year traveling across the United States as part of a show to raise money for the troops and sell war bonds, until he was eventually sent to Italy - where he learned of the capture of the 107th, Bucky's company. Steve mounted a solo rescue mission, and returned successful, and became the leader of the Howling Commandos. The company spent the next months attacking Hydra bases and taking them out, until the mission to capture a prominent Hydra scientist, one Arnim Zola.

The plan was to capture him off of a train, and while the end goal was accomplished, the price for that success was Captain America and his best friend, Bucky Barnes. As near as anyone was ever able to tell, the two of them had been blown out of the side of a compartment, but Steve remembers what happened. Bucky was blown out first, and Steve was reaching for him as the railing gave way; he couldn't lose Bucky, not after everything, not when - Steve's mind blanks then, but he remembers reaching again, and losing his own balance just as Bucky fell from the side of the train, tumbling out into the open air after him.

The Howling Commandos went on to complete their mission, to take out Schmidt and the threat he posed to the rest of the world; they attacked the central base, and when Schmidt tried to escape on a plane, the Commandos followed him. They lost contact with the Commandos over the Atlantic, and the plane was never sighted again. The entire company was declared KIA, and they were all awarded posthumous medals.

Steve is shaken by the visit; it brought back even more memories of the war, as well as a few memories from before. When they leave the museum, Bucky and Steve decide that they need to leave the country; if Hydra's files were in SHIELD's, then they can't take the risk of someone from SHIELD or another organisation realizing that they are now free, and they need to lose any Hydra tails, as well. They decide on Romania; it's remote, and they've never operated there before. It's their best chance of hiding, and maybe starting over.

It's not that easy, though. Once they're settled in Romania, once they're safe and they don't have to run anymore, things take a turn for the worse. During the day they learn what they can about the way the world works now, the events and advancements that have helped to shape it in the seventy years since they fell. Sometimes new information brings new memories, though, and they suffer for their curiosity when they recognise their own handiwork. It's worse when that happens, but even after a good day, if Bucky doesn't wake up screaming in the middle of the night, then Steve does. Most nights, it's both of them.

After two months of living in their own personal hell, struggling to survive day after day without ever really living, Bucky breaks. They don't share a bedroom like he thinks they used to, don't share much of anything except the apartment itself and precious few words, but the walls are paper-thin, and he can't listen to Steve crying out in the night anymore. He just can't. So he goes to Steve that afternoon, when he's reading a book about the Dodgers in their tiny little kitchen and relaxed enough that he's unlikely to lash out the moment Bucky speaks, and drops into the seat opposite him.

"I want to go home," he says.

Steve freezes, but recovers quickly, putting the book down and looking at Bucky with what he hopes is just curiosity in his expression. "What do you mean?" 

"I want to go home," Bucky repeats. "Back to America, hell, maybe even back to Brooklyn. I don't care. But we can't stay here, Steve, it's killing us."

Steve blinks, then considers what Bucky's saying. It's true, they don't talk even as much as they used to when Hydra had them; they barely ever interact, and Steve knows this isn't how things should be between them - even if they never get back to what they had before the war. "Okay," he says, glancing around the apartment. There's nothing tying them here; they could leave today if they want to. "You're right. This isn't helping us." 

"I know we have to be careful," Bucky says, "but maybe once we're there we can find someone to help us get this shit out of our heads."

"You mean the codes," Steve clarifies, and that makes the prospect of returning to America much more attractive; where they're at isn't a very good place to begin looking. They'd have many more resources at their disposal in the States. 

Bucky nods. "I don't know about you, but I'll feel a lot better when I know that Hydra won't find it all too easy to turn me back into a killing machine if they ever get their hands on me again."

Steve grimaces. "Yeah, no argument here," he mutters. "So, you wanna go today?" 

"If you do," Bucky says - and then adds, in a rare moment of honesty, "I don't know how much longer I can take this."

Steve's chest does something odd, but he doesn't dwell on it; he nods, and then reaches out for the first time in a long while to lay a cautious hand on Bucky's shoulder. "We can go today." 

* * *

They discuss their plan as they pack their few belongings and head for the nearest airport; they'd left some money to cover the rest of the month's rent for the landlord to find, and that was all they'd had to do to take care of anything tying them to Romania. The flight to America - to the JFK Airport in New York, is going to take around thirteen hours. Once they land, they are going to find Natalia - Natasha. She has, apparently, managed to break the Red Room's conditioning; while that conditioning was not as thorough as what Hydra put its Soldiers through, perhaps she will have some advice for them.

It turns out, however, that they don't need to concern themselves with how to find Natasha - she's found them. The redhead is waiting for them by the baggage claim, and once Steve and Bucky have their bags, Steve turns to Natasha, unable to keep from studying her with the Soldier's eye, assessing threat level and the surroundings, automatically cataloging the crowd and any possible escape routes as well as running through possible counterattacks should Natasha try to detain them. "Natasha," Steve says, holding himself almost statue-still.

"Rogers," Natasha greets him, not unkindly. "Barnes." Bucky jerks his head in response, just as tense as Steve. Natasha smirks. "You gonna come quietly, boys?"

"Depends on where we're going," Steve answers cautiously. 

"Someplace safe," Natasha says. "You've been off the grid for months, but if I know you're back already, then it won't be long before Hydra does, too."

Steve glances at Bucky. "Where is this 'safe' place?" 

"With the rest of my team," Natasha answers. "You may have heard of them; they call themselves the Avengers."

News of the superhero team had reached them in Romania; Steve nods. "Why do you want to take us to them?" 

Natasha doesn't hesitate, doesn't pull her punches in the slightest. "Because if it comes down to it, they can stop you."

Steve appreciates the honesty. "What do you think?" he asks, turning to Bucky. 

Bucky nods slowly. "I think if it comes down to it, we'll need stopping."

Steve tilts his head, conceding the point. "Do they know you're bringing us?" 

"I wouldn't be here if they didn't," is Natasha's answer. "This isn't a free pass, either. I don't know you and you don't know me outside of what happened in the Red Room. It's just an olive branch. A chance."

"We'll take a chance," Steve says. "We'll go with you." 

Natasha smiles. "Right answer."

* * *

The ride to the Avengers Tower is relatively short, and they're greeted by a crowd when Natasha leads them into the communal living room. Steve recognizes Sam Wilson, as well as Bruce Banner and Clint Barton - they were on Hydra's watch list. He doesn't recognize the tall blonde in what looks like modified armor, but when Steve sees a man who has to be Tony Stark, he freezes in his tracks. His right hand twitches, a phantom feeling of hair clenched between his fingers, impact thudding through his hand and arm as he slams a man's head into the steering wheel hard enough to break his skull and kill him. 

Steve staggers, blinking furiously; his bags slip through his fingers, landing on the floor with a loud crash, and Steve actually backs away from the others, almost all the way to door. "Who the fuck are you?" he blurts. 

"You know exactly who I am," Stark answers calmly. "You killed my mom."

 _December 17,_ his mind supplies helpfully. _1991\. Zima shot out the back tire of the target vehicle, reported movement inside the vehicle. All witnesses eliminated._ "Stark," Steve says, still trying to pull himself out of the memory. "I - You - " 

Sam's expression flickers with something that might be sympathy. "You killed his parents while working for Hydra," he says simply, without inflection. 

"I hate the Soldiers for it," Stark agrees. "I don't have nearly enough information to know if I hate _you_."

Beside Steve, Bucky snorts. "Thanks, I think."

It takes Steve a moment to find his voice, still caught in the rush of memories. "Yeah, thanks." It's more a mutter than anything else, but at least Stark isn't kicking them out. 

"Why did you come to this country?" the blond man asks, expression openly curious. "Oh, my apologies - I am Thor, of Asgard." 

Steve shakes his head a little, looking to Natasha for an explanation. "Asgard is another, more technologically advanced realm. Thor is the crown prince, and has helped us defend Earth from more exotic threats."

Bucky shakes his head, looking bewildered. "This is a lot to take in."

"Yeah it is," Steve agrees before he answers Thor's question. "We were looking for a way to break the last of Hydra's hold on us; we were hoping Natasha could help." 

"And what makes you think we'll help you?" Stark asks.

"They did save my life once," Natasha points out.

Stark waves his hand. "Rogers _spared_ your life once, and Barnes _failed_ to kill Wilson - that's not the same."

"We have inside information on Hydra; they _did_ kidnap us, torture us, and train us, you know," Steve points out. "We know where a lot of their bases are."

"And you'd be willing to share that information?" Stark asks.

Bucky nods. "We want them gone just as much as you do, pal. Hate them even more."

"We don't want what they left," Steve adds. "There's a code phrase, made up of several words, that they used to, well, switch _us_ off, for lack of better words. Neither of us wants that in our heads." 

"As long as that shit's still in our heads," Bucky continues, "anyone with the right words can control us. We'd never be free of that, and you'd never be safe from us."

"So that's what you want in return for what you know?" Stark asks. "You want us to break your conditioning?"

"What Natasha had to break was peanuts compared to what we have," Steve says. "The Red Room was meant for operatives who had been raised in the organization from birth to be used on more delicate missions. Bucky and I both had the serum, even if Bucky's version was more crude, and we broke through the wiping if kept out of cryo for too long. Hydra needed a better way to control us, a surer way, in case memories came back during a mission." 

Stark sighs. "I may have a way to help you," he says, "but it's not a guarantee, and it's not on offer, not yet. Work with Nat and Sam, tell them what you know, and if it's good enough, we'll talk."

"It's in your best interests to help us," Bucky growls, but Stark just glares at him.

"It's in my _best interests_ not to trust you. If you can earn my trust, then I'll help you - not before."

"And it's in _our_ best interests not to give all our bargaining chips away," Steve counters. "We'll give you intel on one base, then you start helping us." 

"Two."

Steve's eyes narrow. "One," he repeats. "Or we walk right back out that door." 

"And right back into Hydra's clutches," Stark says. "We can't take that risk, Rogers. You walk away now and you'll be dead before you reach the door."

"And you'll never find every Hydra base - they'll come back again, like a cancer. We were in at least two bases that were completely isolated from every other part of Hydra. They were still in operation as of the events in DC."

Stark's eyes narrow. "One base," he says, "and new information on the hits you two carried out under Hydra."

Steve glances at Bucky. "So long as that information stays in this tower unless we agree otherwise, then you've got a deal." 

"All right," Stark agrees. "Nat, show these gentlemen to their rooms and then find out what they know."

"Room," Bucky blurts out, and Stark raises an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"We want the same room. You're not separating us."

"No, you're not," Steve agrees. "He's my partner, has been for decades. I'm not going anywhere without him." 

Stark's other eyebrow raises with the first. "Your _partner_?"

Steve crosses his arms over his chest, raising one eyebrow. "Yes, my partner; we have fought together. He is the only one I trust implicitly. I do not know what other connotations 'partner' may have in whatever century this is, but it is the closest word I have to describe what we are to each other. Is there a problem with that?" 

Stark shakes his head, looking inexplicably amused. "Not at all," he says. "Nat, show these gentlemen to their _room_."

Natasha pulls the door open, smiles at the super soldiers. "After you, boys."

* * *

It turns out their 'room' is more like an entire floor. It has a bathroom, kitchen, living room, and two bedrooms, though Bucky and Steve both put their things in only one of the bedrooms. Once they've cleared the floor to their satisfaction, the two return to the living room, where Natasha and Sam are waiting for them. "So," Steve says, not sitting down; he doesn't feel comfortable enough to. "What exactly do you want to know." 

"This is what we already know about you," Natasha says, reaching across Sam to hand Steve a file. Bucky moves to stand behind Steve so that he can read over his shoulder. "In addition to the information necessary to take down one Hydra base, Tony wants to know anything else you can add to that."

The file isn't very big; all they seem to know is that Hydra took Captain America and Bucky Barnes from where they'd fallen from the train. Barnes's left arm had been lost in the fall, and replaced with a cybernetic prosthetic. The two had then undergone a rigorous training and indoctrination schedule, ending in the creation of Hydra's greatest weapons: the Summer and Winter Soldiers. The only confirmed hits on the file are the ones on the Starks, Fury, Natasha, and Sam. "That's a lot of information you're missing," Steve comments, looking up. 

Natasha shrugs. "Hydra knows how to cover their tracks," she says, "and you haven't exactly been our top priority. Luckily for us, you're here now."

"We still can't remember everything," Bucky warns. "We might not be able to give you a full picture."

"It'll be more than we have now," Sam points out. 

Steve sighs, glancing at Bucky. "Should we start with the big one?" 

Bucky nods, and Natasha perks up. "What big one?"

"We," Bucky begins, and then clears his throat. " _I_ assassinated JFK."

Natasha's jaw drops. " _What?_ "

"Hydra wanted JFK gone," Steve explains. "Oswald was the scapegoat; he tried to defect to the Soviet Union, and caught Hydra's attention. I was the one who framed him and made sure he was apprehended, but Bucky pulled the trigger." 

"Wow," Natasha says, exchanging a look with Sam. "Did not see that one coming."

Steve shrugs. "Hydra tried to make history go their way, and we were their favorite method." 

"I'm starting to get that," Natasha says, and pulls a notebook out of her pocket. "Tell us more."

* * *

Steve and Bucky tell Natasha and Sam everything they can remember; it's enough to take most of the day and fill three thick notebooks. At the end of it, the four of them go back to the communal living room. Sam waves the notebooks in the air. "Hydra kept these two very busy." 

Stark looks surprised. "You leave anything out?" he asks Steve.

"Only if we didn't remember it."

"And the Hydra base?"

"There's one in Ukraine," Steve says. "The scientists there were very interested in using our blood to create enhanced humans - humans with supernatural gifts." 

"Well that's awkward," Stark says. "You give them all the info?"

Natasha nods. "Satellite images confirm a building at the coordinates," she says. "We believe the intel is good, if possibly outdated." 

"The last time we were there was in the ‘80s," Steve clarifies. 

"Then I guess that means we can help you," Stark says. "I hope you know that we can't take you with us when we take out this base - at least not until you've had your heads cleaned out."

Steve snorts. "Since neither of us ever want to go through _losing all control over our own actions,_ that's fine." 

Stark actually smiles. "Well, it's good to have Captain America back on the right side."

Steve stiffens at the name. "I am _not_ that man," he snaps. "I haven't been since I fell off of that train." 

"Whatever," Stark says, shrugging. "I suggest you both get some rest. I've got some things to put into place, but once everything's ready it's not going to be a fun process."

* * *

Steve and Bucky retire to their floor soon after that, jittery and uncomfortable around the Avengers. They've barely been behind closed doors five minutes before Steve speaks. "I feel like we should be going with them." 

Bucky sighs. "I thought you'd say that," he says, sitting down heavily on their couch. "You heard Stark, though, we can't go anywhere until they've fixed us."

"I know, but what about afterwards?" Steve asks, starting to pace. "Once we don't have the codes anymore; I don't want to sit around and let someone else take down Hydra." 

"Why is it up to us?" Bucky asks. "They're the superheroes. Why do we need more blood on our hands?"

"They're the ones who put that blood there in the first place!" Steve retorts. "I don't want - I want _revenge._ " 

"We've got it," Bucky says. "We've taken their most dangerous weapon away from them; we're giving the good guys the means to destroy them. So what if we don't pull the trigger ourselves?"

Steve's pacing has started to take on the qualities of a caged animal. "I want them dead, and I want to do it myself," he snarls. 

Bucky breathes out a shaky sigh. "Well then do it," he says quietly. "Get the codes out of your head and tell Stark you want to help. But I can't come with you."

That brings Steve up short, and he gives Bucky a curious look. "Why?" 

Bucky shakes his head, doesn't meet Steve's gaze. "I can't kill anyone else," he admits. "Whether they deserve it or not, I just... I can't do that anymore."

Steve gets the feeling that this conversation has taken a turn onto shaky ground that he's not sure how to navigate. "You... don't want to run missions anymore?" 

"No," Bucky says. "I've been their puppet for seventy years. I just want to get on with my life."

Steve is quiet for a moment. "Even though you could choose this yourself? We are not theirs to command anymore." 

"No," Bucky agrees, "but if I use what they taught me, if I become what they made me, even if it's to take them down, then they've still won."

Steve looks down at his hands, and in that glance he can see all the people he's ever hurt with them. "I can understand that," he says quietly. "I know I don't really want to fight after Hydra is gone... But I still want to help take them down myself." 

"Then do what you've got to do," Bucky says, "and I'll still be here when you've done it. But please don't ask me to go with you."

Steve nods. "All right," he says. "I won't."

* * *

The Avengers take out the facility in Ukraine, and obtain two new friends, as well - the only two surviving subjects of the experiments that made use of Steve and Bucky's blood. Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, twins from a small country named Sokovia. The Soldiers' blood gave the both of them powers: Wanda is now both telepathic and telekinetic, and Pietro can move faster than the speed of sound. Neither Steve nor Bucky completely understand the science behind why their blood worked, but obviously it did.

Now that it's been proven that Steve and Bucky's information is good, Stark begins putting the finishing touches on the technology he believes will be able to remove the programming from Steve and Bucky's heads. A week after the team returns from Ukraine, Stark calls the two Soldiers into his lab. "So this is BARF - it's a bad acronym, I know," the billionaire says, fiddling with some of the controls. "But the important bit is what it's going to let us do - it's going to hijack your hippocampus, and let us access the memories of when Hydra implanted your programming."

"And, what, change it?" Steve asks, eyeing the machine suspiciously. Thankfully it doesn't look like the chair that Hydra had used to wipe his and Bucky's memories and administer punishments, but just being in the lab is still enough to make Steve nervous.

"Pretty much, yeah," Stark says. "It's going to take some fine-tuning, probably several attempts before we actually see results, but I think this is going to be our best chance of getting this programming out of your head."

"Has it been used before?" Bucky asks.

"I've used it," Stark says, flipping through a few options on his screen, poking at it a few times. "But not for anything this in-depth. Which is why Rogers should go under first; his brain will heal better if something happens. He's done it already, even if he doesn't know it."

Bucky frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Well, from the few preliminary scans I've been able to get, the machine Hydra used to wipe your memories didn't do that - they didn't wipe the memories, otherwise there would be no memories for you to remember," Stark explains, pulling up some images. "Here, this is a scan of Barnes's brain. You can see here, in the hippocampus, that there are still some missing connections. This scan was taken when you first arrived, and this one - " a flick of the wrist brought up another scan " - is from yesterday. You can see that some of those missing connections have been repaired. I believe what those machines did was break the connections between the memories, but the both of you have versions of the super serum, so your brains healed, allowing you to access those memories once more."

"So Steve remembers more than me because he's got the better serum?" Bucky asks.

"His, well, everything heals faster, yes," Stark confirms. "Which is why he should do this first; if something goes wrong, it's less likely he'll sustain permanent damage." 

Bucky looks at Steve. "A lot less likely?"

"This has never been done before, so I can't make any guarantees," Stark explains. 

Steve and Bucky share a long look, and then Steve nods. "We'll never get anywhere if we don't try," he points out. "If this is ready for a trial run, maybe we start with something a bit smaller?" 

"That's a good idea," Bucky agrees. "Can we do that?"

Stark sighs. "I prefer jumping straight into the deep end, but I guess since this is _your_ brain, we can do that," he says. 

"So kind of you," Bucky says, rolling his eyes.

"You're welcome," Stark says, grinning. "Now, on to the fun part - actually doing the experiment. Theory's all well and good, but application is what we're after here."

"Right," Steve says, a little doubtfully. "What does that mean?"

"It means that you are going to sit in one of these chairs and wear this." Stark produces what looks like a modified motorcycle helmet; there are several wires coming from it, and Steve eyes the apparatus warily. At least it's not a chair like what Hydra had, there's that much to be said. "This is a bit more complicated than the glasses I wear, but I'm just changing my perception of the memory, I'm not changing the memory itself. C'mon, sit. You, too, Barnes - don't need you hovering like a worried housewife."

"Worried housewife, my ass," Bucky mutters, but he sits down all the same. "Now what?"

"Now, before I actually put the helmet on Steve, I want to warn you that this is probably going to be unpleasant," Stark says, fiddling with the wires behind Steve's chair. "It might very well feel like you're having an icepick stuck into the base of your skull."

"Can't be worse than what Hydra did," Steve says tightly. "Just get on with it."

Stark sighs. "Very well. I'll be controlling the process through JARVIS and my computer, so pick a memory you wouldn't miss."

It takes Steve a moment. "January 19, 1929," he decides. "I was sick with the flu."

"All right," Stark hums. "Let's get this party started." 

* * *

The 'party' lasts for a few hours; Stark, despite his glibness, is actually very unwilling to potentially break Steve's brain. In the end, Steve's memory is changed: Now, when he thinks of being sick in 1929, his memory informs him that the date was February 11, not January 19. "That was peanuts compared to what we'll have to do to get rid of your programming," Stark warns. "But I'm optimistic. Again, we'll work with Rogers first, but I want to at least view the memories of Hydra implanting the programming tomorrow. For now though, you're free to go back to whatever it is you former assassins do in your free time. Romanoff's never been very forthcoming." With that, Stark turns away from them, as though dismissing them, and Steve glances at Bucky before shrugging and leading the way out of the lab.

"So what do you think?" Bucky asks as they head back to their room.

"I think it's the best chance we have of getting this shit out of our heads," Steve answers. "Not particularly pleasant, but at least Stark is more careful than Hydra was." 

Bucky nods. "Agreed," he says. "And only one of us stands the risk of coming out of it a vegetable. I'd say those are pretty good odds."

Steve frowns; something about Bucky's statement, while logical, rubs him the wrong way. "Well, I'd like to make sure things are a bit more refined before either of us attempts the main procedure." 

"I'm sure Stark's gonna like that."

"Yeah, well unless Stark wants two unstable ex-assassins running around his tower, he'll just have to suck it up," Steve retorts. "Just because I'll _probably_ heal doesn't mean I want to test it out before we've covered all the bases." 

Bucky shoots him a grin. "He'll respect that," he says with confidence. "He likes you."

Steve snorts. "I smashed his father's face in and broke his mother's neck," he says derisively. "Not exactly conducive to a good relationship."

Bucky shrugs. "He also knows that you only want to prevent something like that happening again," he says. "Maybe even more than he does."

"Still doesn't mean he likes me," Steve replies. 

"He respects you at least," Bucky says.

"Maybe," Steve allows. "But as long as he helps us, and lets me take a few shots at some Hydra agents, I don't much care what he thinks." 

Bucky's face darkens, and he looks away. "Yeah."

Maybe it's the long day, but something has Steve grabbing Bucky by the shoulder and slamming him up against the wall just outside of the door to their floor. "Can the attitude," he snarls. "You don't want to go kill a couple of Hydra dicks, fine. But this is _my_ life, and _my_ decision, and I don't fucking need my _partner_ acting like he suddenly found a higher horse to sit on."

Bucky snarls and shoves Steve off him. "So it was okay for you to bitch and whine every time I so much as looked at someone else when we were with Hydra, but I can't get my back up about this now?" he demands, and maybe it's a low blow but he doesn't care. "What happened to that mile-wide possessive streak, _Leto_? What happened to, 'You're _mine_ , Bucky'?"

"That's not the same and you know it," Steve growls, crowding Bucky up against the wall. "If I wanted to go fuck Tony, or anyone else, you'd have an argument."

This time Bucky goes without a fight; it may have been a while, but he knows this game, knows how to play it well. "If you go out and get yourself _killed_ ," he snaps, "you won't be able to fuck anyone - me included."

"Like I'll be missing that?" Steve challenges. "We haven't touched each other in years - why is that any motivation?" 

Anger flares to life in Bucky's chest, burns bright behind his eyes, and he throws Steve off him hard enough that he stumbles into the opposite wall. "You're right," he snarls. "Go get yourself shot or blown up. See if I care."

Steve regains his footing and wastes no time in getting back into Bucky's space; he's itching for _something_ now, and he doesn't care if it's a fight or a fuck. "If you didn't care, you'd have walked away long before now," he hisses. "You'd have walked away right after we got out of that damned vault. But you're still here, so either you do care, or you're just a fucking glutton for punishment."

And there's absolutely nothing Bucky can say to that, so he just punches Steve in the face.

Steve reels with the blow; Bucky used the metal hand, which means that all bets are off. Steve has only enough higher brain function to literally throw Bucky through the door to their quarters, sparing a brief thought towards how he'll have to apologize for the damage later, before he launches himself at the brunette. Their fight isn't even really a fight; they're _brawling._ There's no elegance to it; they're punching and kicking, using the furniture around them as improvised weapons, neither of them really bothering to plan their attacks. It's not until Steve tackles Bucky, who was rushing him with a broken chair leg, and rolls the slightly-shorter man to the floor and traps his arms and legs, pinning him, that either of them really stop to breathe or think. 

And that's when Steve abruptly realizes that he is achingly hard, and - if what he's feeling pressed against his own clothed erection is any indication - so is Bucky. 

Bucky feels it too, and he grins up at Steve, a challenge in his eyes as he rolls his hips.

Steve's eyes narrow as he shifts his position slightly; he doesn't release Bucky's wrists or legs, but his new position, almost laying on top of Bucky, allows him to grind down against Bucky's cock, watching the other man intently as he does so. 

Bucky's breathing gets a little faster, a little shallower, and his grin slips off his face as he moves his hips to meet the grind of Steve's. "Thought you said you didn't want me," he says, only slightly breathless.

"Don't remember saying that," Steve murmurs as he repeats his action of a moment before, breath catching in his chest at the delicious friction. 

Bucky groans, sinks his teeth into his lower lip. "Then _do something_."

Steve grins, pressing down harder. "I'm doing something right now," he says. "What if that's all I wanna do?" 

Bucky huffs out a frustrated sigh. "Quit screwin' around, Rogers."

"Oh," Steve says, making like he's going to get off of Bucky, "you want me to stop?" 

Bucky wrestles his legs free only so that he can wrap them around Steve's waist. "You know I don't."

"Well what do you want, then?" Steve's smirking now, and that probably makes him an asshole, but he's strangely okay with that.

Bucky leans up until their faces are barely inches apart; he doesn't kiss Steve, but the promise is there in his eyes. "Fuck me," he murmurs. "Fuck me, Steve."

Steve's smirk turns into a feral grin. "Well, since you asked so nicely..." 

* * *

Steve and Bucky fuck on just about every surface of their quarters over the next couple of weeks while Stark fine-tunes his BARF machine. Eventually, though, Stark announces that everything is ready for the final procedure. "You're sure?" Steve asks, unable to help himself. 

"As I can be about a heretofore-unattempted procedure," Stark answers. 

"Were you able to reduce the chances of frying his brain?" Bucky asks darkly from the far side of the room.

"What, do you think I've been over here watching porn for the past few weeks?" Stark asks dryly. "Your boyfriend's brain should be fine, Barnes." 

Bucky scowls, pushes away from the wall. "Well, I guess you don't need me here."

Stark, busy double-checking the machine, just waves, but Steve frowns and intercepts Bucky. "You're going to leave? I thought you were staying." 

Bucky shrugs. "Sounds like Stark's got it under control."

Steve studies Bucky's expression, and decides to take a chance. "Buck," he says quietly. "I'd like it if you'd stay with me. So we don't have to be alone." 

And that's a little bit too close to the bone, so Bucky relents with a slight nod. "All right," he says. "Whatever you need."

Steve's relief is greater than he was expecting, and he can't help but smile. "Okay," he says quietly. "Thank you." 

"If you two lovebugs are done, I've got everything ready," Stark calls. 

"You might want to watch your mouth, Stark," Bucky calls before he can help himself, but there's no real threat behind his words, "and remember who you're in a room with."

"If Rogers didn't kill me after the shorting incident, I doubt he'll kill me now," Stark calls back, and Steve winces at the reminder of the time there was an electrical short and he had briefly regressed to the Soldier. 

Bucky's expression darkens further at the memory. "Just get on with it."

"Touchy," Stark mutters. "All right; Rogers, the chair is yours." 

Steve gives Bucky a grin. "I'll see you on the other side." 

* * *

"Buck?" Steve asks, hovering nearby as Stark carefully ends the procedure and brings Bucky back to consciousness. "How you feeling?" 

"Ugh," Bucky says eloquently, and smacks his lips, thinking. "Like I've just had my wires cut."

Stark nods while Steve grins. "I felt the same way," he says. "It felt great." 

Bucky smiles back. "Great is right." He glances over Steve's shoulder. "Thank you, Stark."

Stark waves a hand. "We'll have Romanoff read off the codes to you tomorrow, make sure that it's gone for good. That works, you'll be cleared to join us for Hydra-specific missions." 

"That's good for Steve," Bucky says, easing himself out of the chair. "I'm not interested."

"Thanks," Steve says hastily. "You don't need us for anything else, right?" 

"Nope, just gonna put everything away," Stark answers. 

"Then I'm outta here," Bucky says, already halfway through the door. "Thanks again."

Stark makes a non-committal noise as Steve and Bucky leave, Steve actually having to work to keep up with the other man. "Bucky, hey," Steve calls. "Wait up a sec, would ya?" 

For a moment it seems as though Bucky's going to ignore him, but then he slows his pace to match Steve's, shoots him a look out of the corner of his eye. "What's up?"

"Nothing, it's just - " Steve hesitates, but asks, "Are you sure you're okay?" 

"Me?" Bucky laughs. "I'm right as rain, Rogers. What have I got to complain about?"

"I don't know," Steve says, frustrated. "But you've been acting weird." 

"What, by telling Stark where to shove his mission clearance?" Bucky asks. "You know how I feel about that."

"Yeah," Steve says; maybe in another life, he'd know how to push the subject, know just the right words to say to find out what's been bothering Bucky, to get him to open up about why he really doesn't want to go back out in the field, at least to take out some Hydra assholes. Bucky had said something about Hydra winning if he used what they'd taught him - but how could they win if Hydra agents were the ones being killed instead of the targets they chose?

Bucky seems to be reading his mind, because he shoots Steve a patient look. "I don't expect you to get it," he says. "I just wish you'd respect it."

Steve sighs. "I'm sorry," he says; he should respect Bucky's decision and leave the matter alone, but it feels wrong to be getting ready to go into a fight without his partner at his back. "Are you hungry?" 

"I could eat," Bucky says easily, hoping to dispel the tension between them.

"Want to order in? There's a new Italian place down the street that delivers."

"Is that a good idea?" Bucky asks. "Two mass murderers who are supposed to be dead ordering pizza to the Avengers Tower?"

"If we bribe Clint with a pizza of his own he'll pick it up in the lobby for us," Steve says thoughtfully. 

"Sure," Bucky says. "Tell them Hawkeye will sign something if they throw in some free garlic bread - just don't tell Clint."

Steve laughs. "I'll tell them," he says with a grin. 

Clint does indeed accept the delivery, and he doesn't even look mad about the autograph thing when he comes up to drop their food off, which makes Bucky suspicious. "You remembered to mention the garlic bread, right?" he asks Steve.

"I did," Steve says, taking the food from Clint. "It's on top of the pizzas." 

"Good," Bucky says, reaching around Steve to snag the food and amble back down the hall. "Pay the man, Rogers."

Clint chuckles. "You're like an old married couple."

Bucky freezes.

Steve, who'd been counting out bills from his wallet, nearly drops the cash. "What?" 

"Y'know," Clint says cheerfully, "bickering and shit. You can tell you've been in each other's pockets for decades."

"Right," Steve says flatly, abruptly uncomfortable. "Thanks again, Clint." 

Clint's eyes widen, and he looks unsure, almost regretful, but he backs away from the door. "Have a good night," he offers.

Steve may be a bit annoyed, but he knows better than to be rude to someone who he'll probably be fighting alongside soon. "Thanks; you too." With that, he shuts the door and turns back to head to the kitchen. "That was odd." 

"Was it?" Bucky asks around a mouthful of pizza.

"Well, yeah - you didn't think the 'old married couple' comment was a bit much?"

Bucky shrugs. "Don't know," he says, but he's watching Steve carefully. "Does it bother you?"

Steve shrugs. "A little. I mean, we're not married, and we're not in love; we're partners who fuck each other when we get bored." 

"I doubt he knows even that," Bucky says. "I don't think he meant anything by it."

Steve doesn't say anything as he eats his own slice. "Probably not," he concedes after a moment, although something about Clint's comment still rubs him the wrong way. "Do you want to go watch a movie?" 

"All right," Bucky agrees easily, apparently glad of the change of subject. "I'm choosing, though."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Fine. Nothing Nicholas Sparks." 

Bucky picks a Disney movie they haven't seen yet, because they're relatively safe and they've been working their way through them ever since Bucky remembered taking Steve to see _Snow White_ back in the day. They start out on opposite ends of the sofa, the pizza between them, but once the pizza's gone and they're both content and as relaxed as they're going to get, they start to gravitate towards each other. It's happened before, but this time there's nothing sexual in it; Bucky throws his feet up into Steve's lap and Steve rubs absently at his ankles while Bucky kneads his thigh with his toes. It's nice; it's... just _nice_.

Right around the time Sleeping Beauty's arch nemesis turns into a fucking _dragon_ , Bucky realises that he rather likes hanging out with Steve, just spending time with him one-on-one with no expectations other than for them to be themselves, whatever that means on any given day. By the time the dragon is dead, he's wondering just how screwed that makes him.

Steve notices when Bucky goes quieter than he's been through the rest of the movie, but he doesn't comment; he's too wrapped up in his own thoughts. He and Bucky have been doing this, catching up on movies and television shows that they've missed in their years of being wanted, brainwashed assassins, for a while now, and more and more Steve's been starting to look forward to it more than is probably warranted. It's odd, but Steve's found that he actually _likes_ spending time with Bucky like this, just the two of them together without sex or fighting involved. 

It's a bit troubling, but Steve puts it out of his mind. 

It's probably nothing anyway. 

* * *

Once they're cleared, it's not long before Steve joins the Avengers on his first Hydra raid; he follows orders as best he's able, but if his shield just happens to hit a few heads harder than Stark might be strictly happy with, Steve isn't about to complain. He ducks out of the obligatory post-mission Avengers press conference before any cameras can spot him, and by the time he reaches his and Bucky's quarters, Steve still feels like a caged animal. "Hey," he says, pacing into the living room, sitting on the couch only to get up a moment later. "Press is swarming the Tower." 

"You're part of the world's favourite team of heroes now," Bucky says blithely. "It's to be expected." He looks up at Steve. "How did it go?"

"Good," Steve says, still pacing. "They never knew what hit them. And I'm not part of the team; I'm not a hero. I'm just getting some revenge." 

"I know that," Bucky says. "You could be, though. A hero."

Steve snorts. "No, I couldn't - I'm not doing this to rid the world of Hydra, and I don't really give a shit about the rest of the world right now. I want my revenge, and when that's done, I want out. Maybe I could help if the Avengers desperately needed it, but when Hydra is dead and gone, I won't have a reason to fight anymore, and I'm not going to go looking for one." 

"So this isn't because you want to be Captain America again?" Bucky asks.

" _Hell_ no," Steve snaps. "I told Stark, I'm not that man anymore, and I don't fucking want to be."

Bucky shrugs. "Okay."

They subside into an uneasy silence that lasts several minutes. Eventually, Steve breaks it. "Do you want to go spar?" 

Bucky raises his eyebrows. "By spar, do you mean..?"

"I mean I need to fight," Steve says irritably. "And I want to fight something that can fight back, unlike a punching bag." 

"You wanna get your ass handed to you?" Bucky asks, mildly interested.

"Maybe," Steve says. "You gonna help out or what? I just - I can't settle down. I need to keep moving." 

Bucky considers Steve for a moment. "What you gonna do if I say no?"

"Maybe convince Stark to let me beat up one of his old suits, I don't know!"

Bucky curses softly in Russian, and gets to his feet. "All right," he sighs. "Come on."

* * *

They go for hours, long enough that Steve loses track of time, which is just what he needs to get rid of the energy still crawling under his skin. They make use of the entire gym as they spar - until Bucky lands a hit with his left fist that makes Steve's entire face explode, going cross-eyed with the pain. " _Motherfucker!_ " he spits, stumbling away from Bucky, holding his face. "What was that for?" 

"You're fucking joking, right?" Bucky demands, breathing hard. "You've been asking for that since you got back."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your fucking attitude is what I'm talking about," Bucky says.

"What the hell is wrong with my attitude?" Steve demands. 

"You're not with Hydra now, y'know," Bucky says. "There's no one here you can kill."

Steve blows out a heavy breath. "I'm fine," he says shortly. "It was an intense mission, I had some extra energy I needed to burn out." 

"Well are you done?" Bucky asks, eyeing Steve with some concern.

"I think so," Steve says after a moment. 

Bucky blows out a long breath. "Good," he says. " _Hercules_?"

Steve nods, gingerly testing his nose; it's still sore, but almost done healing. "Yeah," he answers. "That sounds good." 

Bucky smiles. "Come on. I'll get you some ice."

* * *

The Avengers face a Doombot invasion on their own; Steve and Bucky watch the news carefully, and if things get exceptionally bad, Steve might go out, but the Avengers appear to be old hat at taking care of Doombots. A couple of weeks later, they take out another Hydra base, and Steve has the same problem as he did the first time: When he returns, he's full of nervous energy, energy that makes him agitated and snappish. Sparring doesn't help, even when Bucky clocks him hard enough to make Steve's bell ring for several minutes. It takes a full two days before Steve goes back to normal, and when he finally does he feels sick to his stomach and spends an hour in the bathroom, barely escaping worshiping the porcelain throne through sheer force of will. 

He finds Bucky in the kitchen when he finally emerges from the bathroom. Neither of them speak while Steve downs a full glass of ice water and gets himself a refill. After he's taken a sip of that, Steve is the one to break the silence between them. "I'm sorry," he says without looking away from the shifting ice in his glass. 

Bucky doesn't look at him. "What for?"

"The past couple of days."

Bucky nods. "Ever think that this vendetta against Hydra isn't good for you?"

"Maybe," Steve admits. "But I'm going to see this through." 

Bucky turns to Steve then, something close to anguish on his face. "Where does it end, Steve?" he asks. "How far do you need to go before you can sleep at night?"

"When I've taken out every base they took us to," Steve snaps. "I want to stand there and watch those bases go up in flames." 

Bucky sighs heavily, turns away again. "Fine."

* * *

Steve is still on edge for the next couple of days, but when he finds Bucky in the kitchen cooking what looks like more than their usual simple dinner, he's surprised. He stops in his tracks, blinking. "What's going on?" 

Bucky just shrugs. "Wanted something different. Thought it might be nice."

"What are you making?"

"Chicken," Bucky answers. "Mushrooms, potatoes. A white wine and cream sauce." He gives Steve a 'fuck if I know' kind of look. "JARVIS suggested it."

Steve snorts. "That sounds good," he admits, "but I'm still not sure why you're doing it." 

"I just wanted to do something with my hands," Bucky admits. "And I think I used to like to cook. Before."

"You did," Steve says thoughtfully. "I used to bake, I think." 

"I remember," Bucky admits, because memories about Steve come back much easier than memories about himself. "Don't think we ever had fancy ingredients like these, though. I'm a little out of my depth."

Steve grins. "Need any help?" 

"Sure," Bucky agrees easily. "JARVIS, pull up the recipe for the good captain."

They cook together for a bit, and the food actually turns out better than Steve was expecting. They eat in relative silence, and afterwards they clean up, washing the dishes and setting them on the drying rack. "I'm gonna get a shower," Steve says, gesturing towards the bathroom. "Dinner was great." 

"How about a bath?" Bucky asks before he can help himself.

Steve gives Bucky a curious look before a smirk steals across his expression. "You gonna join me?" 

Bucky grins back. "Don't mind if I do."

Steve's never been as grateful for the giant bathtub in the bathroom as he is now as they run a hot bath. Steve shrugs his clothes off, sliding into the bath first. "You coming?" 

Bucky's already down to his socks and underwear, and he strips those off with a smile before climbing into the bath and settling himself between Steve's legs with a deep, contented sigh. "That's the ticket," he breathes. "Think I forgot what hot water even was before we came here."

Steve snorts, leaning back against the tub; he doesn't bother to reach for the soap just yet, too busy following Bucky's lead in enjoying the warmth. "So did I," he mutters. "We always basically hosed off to get the worst of the gunk off of us before being shoved back into cryo." 

Bucky sighs again and drops his head back onto Steve's shoulder. "Let's not think about them tonight, okay?" he murmurs.

Without his permission, one of Steve's arms comes up to wrap around Bucky's middle. "Yeah, okay," he answers, voice quiet in the suddenly-intimate atmosphere. Steve and Bucky have been fucking since they were Leto and Zima, but since they came back to themselves, there's been something different. Something _more._ Steve can't put his finger on it, though he suspects it has something to do with some still-missing piece of their past, but for tonight... For tonight, at least, he'll leave it be. 

They spend a good amount of time in the bath, just enjoying the warmth and each other's company, occasionally bringing up some story or other from their past before they wash up and get out. Neither of them bother getting dressed, and it's in unspoken agreement that they head for Steve's bedroom. Steve pauses when he sees the sheets that weren't there this morning, but right now he's reaching that half-asleep state that means he doesn't care about much of anything, so all he does is lift the covers and slide into the bed. 

Bucky hesitates for only a few seconds before climbing into bed beside Steve. He feels it too, this _more_ between them, but he doesn't really know what to do with it. All he knows is that Steve will be leaving on another mission sooner rather than later, and until then Bucky wants to keep him as close as possible.

Steve can tell that Bucky's thinking about something, and he doesn't particularly like it. The blond reaches out to grab him, rolling the brunette on top of him. "You're thinking too much." 

"Yeah?" Bucky asks, because it's easier than trying to talk to Steve about what's on his mind. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"Well," Steve says slowly, letting one hand slide down Bucky's side, slipping around to palm his ass for a moment. "I could distract you." 

"You could," Bucky agrees, sighing softly as he leans in to kiss Steve's neck. "I guess I could be persuaded."

Steve grins. "Yeah? I'm pretty good at distracting people," he says, planting his feet on the mattress so he can roll his hips up into Bucky. 

Bucky gasps, moans. "I'm getting that," he murmurs, before sucking gently on Steve's earlobe. "Why don't you show me what you got?"

Steve's grin turns into a smirk. "My pleasure." 

* * *

That night, the sex isn't like their usual; it's slower, but no less intense. Steve hesitates to call it anything other than simple sex because of what... _other words_ might imply. 

Five days later, Steve is gearing up to leave for another mission when Bucky approaches him and carefully asks Steve to reconsider going. Steve brushes him off, already feeling himself settling into the rhythm of the Soldier and - despite his own growing unease at how easy it is to slip back into that mentality - still determined to see this through. 

It's Steve who returns, but only barely. Nothing helps for a full week, but during the second he gradually started coming back to himself. 

Or at least, he does until he sees what looks like Bucky flirting with Natalia. He manages to keep himself under control until they return to their floor, and then he pulls away from Bucky to pace angrily before he pushes Bucky onto the couch, moving to straddle him to keep him in place. "You looked like you were having fun," he says, an edge of accusation in his voice. 

"What?" Bucky asks, the laugh that threatens to bubble past his lips dying a terrible death in his throat instead when he sees he ice in Steve's eyes. "So what if I was?"

"So what - So _nothing,_ " Steve snarls, one hand gripping the back of the couch as he uses the other to push at Bucky's shoulder before his hand comes down and squeezes, hard. "We've had this discussion before; you're mine, and nobody else's."

"Did I say otherwise?" Bucky challenges.

"You were flirting," Steve accuses. "With Natalia." 

This time Bucky does laugh. "So what?" he asks again.

Steve's hand moves from Bucky's shoulder to between his legs, palming the other man's cock. "So nothing," he repeats. "She can't have you." 

Bucky grins, cants his hips up into Steve's hand. "But you can."

"Damn right," Steve mutters, reaching for Bucky's zipper. 

It isn't the first time they've fucked all over their floor - it isn't even the first time they've trashed it in the process - but this is different. Steve doesn't lose the possessiveness once he's got Bucky naked and under him, seems instead to be even more determined to claim Bucky as his own; he roughs him up a little bit, leaves hickeys all over his throat and chest, makes sure it hurts right on the edge of too much when he fingers Bucky open. And the fucking itself? Bucky'll be surprised if he can walk right before the end of the week.

But he's never been one to just lie down and take it; he gives as good as he gets, makes sure Steve hurts too, bites and scratches and snarls like a wild animal when he has to. They were still the Soldiers the last time he saw Steve like this, intent on just using Bucky for his own ends without a care for the consequences or for Bucky himself. It would scare Bucky if he wasn't so pissed off about it, because how dare Steve treat him like this now, after everything?

It's more of a brawl than it is a fuck, except for the parts where they growl out their pleasure and then pant against mouths bitten bloody until they're ready to go again, on a different surface or in a different room. They've actually made it to the bed when Steve finally gets over whatever the fuck his problem is. Bucky actually sees the light click on behind his eyes, right as he's getting ready to come, and for some reason that just pisses him off even more. He throws Steve onto his back and rides him until they both finish, and then shoves him away so that he can roll onto his back and try to catch his breath. The ache in his heaving chest tells him the bruises are already beginning to bloom.

Steve takes only a moment to catch his breath before he's shoving himself off of the bed; honestly, he feels like he's going to be sick to his stomach. How the hell could he have treated Bucky like that, like - like Bucky was _Zima?_ What actually frightens him is the fact that he could feel Leto on the edge of his consciousness, an animal a weak link away from breaking free. 

Steve's made it halfway across the room when Bucky's words stop him in his tracks. 

"You're a fucking coward, Steve Rogers."

Steve grits his teeth before turning to glare at Bucky. "What the hell are you on about?" 

"Fucking me like that and then walking away?" Bucky snarls. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Fucking you like what, exactly?" Steve snaps, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Bucky refuses to back down. "Like we're still Hydra."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Steve says shortly, defensive. "So I got possessive." 

"I'm a goddamn queer! Are you really so threatened by a _woman_ that you have to rough me up to stake your claim?" The look Bucky gives him is full of disgust. "Fuck you, Leto. Get out."

Steve stiffens at the name, feels his expression go blank - but he doesn't hang around. Bucky clearly isn't happy with him, and Steve doesn't blame him. So all the blond does is follow the order he's been given, and leaves.

* * *

Maybe he should have declined the next mission; it's barely two days after he and Bucky had their fight, and they've yet to make up. It throws him off enough that he doesn't really pay attention during the debriefing while they're in the quinjet en route to the base, and thus he's unprepared for the complete firestorm they walk into. Steve freezes for a moment, but when a bullet whizzes past his ear close enough to burn, Leto takes over.

Leto is also the one who returns to the tower; not the same Leto of the days under Hydra control, he's as quiet as that Leto was, but also calmer. He doesn't say anything on the ride back, simply sits in one corner of the quinjet enduring the concerned looks that the Avengers cast his way; he has completed the mission, has survived it and excelled at the killing of the agents he had been sent to eliminate. He supposes that the Avengers aren't entirely happy with how... clinical his killings were, or how calm he is now, but Leto much prefers this calm to the turmoil that has been Steve's head for the past fifty-three hours.

When they dock, Leto once more dodges the press, using the flood of Avengers from the quinjet as usual to cover his own escape; he has no desire to be hailed as a hero, or spotted at all. For his purposes, he wants Captain America to stay dead.

The Soldier seeks out Zi- _Bucky._ Steve may have regressed almost completely into Leto, but that doesn't mean that Bucky's done the same with Zima. He finds the other former Soldier where he expects to, in the living room of their floor, and gives a lackluster greeting before beginning to strip out of the tactical gear.

Bucky considers ignoring him, but he refuses to be that petty and when he looks up there's something about the set of Steve's shoulders that's all wrong. "How did it go?" he asks.

"The mission was a success," Leto replies calmly. "The base was destroyed, and every agent inside was eliminated or captured."

Bucky nods. "That's good," he offers.

Leto makes a noncommittal noise as he strips out of the last of the tac gear, taking it to the bedroom to deposit in the 'needs deep-cleaning' pile. When he comes back out, the Soldier grabs an apple from the bowl in the kitchen before he enters the living room, looking out the window to observe the passing New York life as he eats. 

Bucky watches him for a long moment, warring with himself, before he finally speaks. "Steve. Are you okay?"

It takes Leto a moment to respond, mostly because of the apple chunk in his mouth, but he nods. "I am fine," he says, glancing at Bucky. "Why do you ask?"

Bucky frowns. "Because you're acting weird."

Leto raises one eyebrow. "I would have thought you would prefer this behavior to how I acted last time."

Bucky sighs. "Whatever," he says. "I would _prefer_ an apology, but if that's what you gotta tell yourself."

"An apology?"

Bucky shakes his head. "Forget it."

Leto studies Bucky intently. "I've... upset you," he says slowly. "I'm not sure how, but I apologize for that."

"Steve, what's going on?" Bucky asks, looking pained. "Come and sit down."

Leto obeys, though he doesn't sit next to Bucky; he chooses to sit in the armchair instead. "Nothing is going on; just because I am not as... as anxious and tense as I was after the last missions does not mean there is something wrong." 

"True," Bucky says, "and if you were actually doing better, then I'd be over the moon. But you're not yourself."

Leto lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "I am myself - perhaps not my usual self, but still myself." 

Bucky frowns, then, and leans closer. "Then who are you?" he asks.

Leto raises an eyebrow. "I suppose I can't blame you; I didn't spend seventy years with _Bucky_ after all." 

"Leto?" Bucky asks, sounding sickened. It's been months, but he switches to Russian with ease. " _What the fuck happened out there?_ "

Leto answers in that same calm tone. " _Steve froze; he almost died. He returned to me, and I kept us alive._ " 

" _This isn't who you are_ ," Bucky insists, his voice low. " _This isn't who you've ever been._ "

" _No, this is better,_ " Leto answers. " _I do not worry about things, and with the life we've lived the past several months, I am in no danger of losing control._ " 

" _It's Hydra that's making you lose control,_ " Bucky argues. " _Leave them behind and you can start to move on._ "

" _I am in control now,_ " Leto counters. " _I was in control on the battlefield. I much prefer this to the chaos that is Steve's life._ " 

"Can you hear yourself right now?" Bucky demands, in English this time. "You're letting them win, Steve, can't you see that?"

"They are dead," Leto retorts, switching to English as well. "I am alive - by definition, _they_ lost." 

Bucky sighs and gets to his feet. "Whatever you say," he says. "But I've got nothing to say to Leto." And he walks away.

* * *

Bucky avoids Leto for the next few days; the longer he stays away, the less Leto feels like Leto, however, and the more he begins to feel like Steve. And Steve is very much not happy with what's happened. It comes to a head on the fourth day, when Bucky finally corners Leto in the kitchen. 

"Okay," Bucky snaps before Steve has a chance to speak, "enough is enough. This stops today."

"What stops?"

"You know what," Bucky says. "I know you think it's some kind of self-preservation bullshit but you're hurting everyone around you as well as yourself and it can't go on."

"How am I hurting them? I'm not running around destroying punching bags or taking out any frustration or anger on any of the Avengers or you."

"But at least we knew how to help that guy," Bucky insists, something close to anguish on his face. "I can't reach you like this, Steve."

"Maybe that's the point," Leto snaps - and it's the first emotion he's shown in days. 

What's left of Bucky's composure crumples like so much wet tissue. "Steve," he says, soft and desperate. "Don't do this to yourself."

" _Steve_ feels too much," Leto spits. "It's annoying, and does nothing but cause problems." 

"What?" Bucky asks. "What does Steve feel?"

Leto's lip curls. "He doesn't know what he feels, and that distracts him, makes him sloppy - and angers him." 

"Well, sometimes that's how emotions work," Bucky says, like he's some leading expert on the subject. He's only been feeling real emotions for a handful of months, but he knows this much at least. "Shutting them out isn't the answer."

"When the alternative is letting them get you killed, it is," Leto retorts - but his voice betrays his growing uncertainty. 

"So then stop putting yourself in harm's way!" Bucky begs. "Drop Hydra, let the team deal with it. You've done enough; it's killing you!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Leto - Steve - _Leto_ snaps. "I have a mission, and I will see it through to the end." 

"You've done enough," Bucky repeats, and he takes a careful step closer. "You've made your point; you're not under their thumb anymore. But it'll never be over until you walk away."

"No," Leto says, shaking his head. "It'll be over when they're all dead." 

"They're called _Hydra_ for a reason! You'll never take them all out, and you'll die trying!"

"Why the fuck do you care so damn much?" Steve snarls. 

"Because I need you!" Bucky cries. "Because you're my best friend and you're all I've got and I can't lose you again!"

Steve blinks. "You - What?" 

"You heard me," Bucky says. "I need you here, with me. But I need _Steve_. Leto is poison, just like Zima and the rest of Hydra."

"I don't - I don't understand," Steve says haltingly. 

"We're not what they made us," Bucky says, "not anymore. But the more time you spend chasing after Hydra, the closer you get to losing yourself, losing everything you fought for. And that-- it scares me, more than anything. _You_ scare me."

And that's what shakes Steve completely from Leto's hold; he's actually _scaring_ Bucky, and he can't remember the last time he did that. "I, I'm sorry, I didn't know - " 

"I know," Bucky says quickly. "God, Steve, I know. Which is why I'm asking you - _begging_ you, even - to stop this madness."

Steve's expression is stricken; have things really gotten that bad, that Bucky's been reduced to _begging?_ Steve had thought he had maybe finally gotten this under control, but apparently not. "I - I don't know if I can," Steve admits quietly. 

"I'll help you," Bucky promises. "Please, just let me."

"Why would you?" Steve asks bitterly. "After the way I've treated you..." 

"It doesn't matter," Bucky insists. "I told you."

"It does! I treated you like - like - "

Bucky crosses the kitchen to grasp Steve by the arms and haul him in close. "You weren't yourself," he says. "It's forgiven."

Steve hesitates, but then he wraps his arms around Bucky. "How can you forgive me, though?" he asks, voice hoarse. "I don't understand." 

Bucky holds Steve to him, closes his eyes as he presses his cheek to Steve's temple. "Because I love you, dumbass."

Steve jerks back, though not far enough to leave the circle of Bucky's arms. "You - You love me?" 

Bucky looks unsure for all of three seconds - but then he smiles. "'Course I do."

Steve just stares at Bucky blankly for a long moment before he starts blinking back tears. "I don't - I don't know if I love you, but I know that I need you." 

Bucky reels Steve back into the hug. "You've got me," he promises. "To the end of the line, remember?"

Steve's laugh is choked and wet. "Yeah," he mutters, face pressed to the crook of Bucky's shoulder. "To the end of the line." 

* * *

Steve tells the rest of the Avengers that he will no longer be joining them on missions the next day; Natalia(neither Steve nor Bucky have been able to consistently call her by the name she uses now) and - perhaps not completely surprisingly - Stark nod understandingly when Steve lets them know, and the rest of the team accept his news easily. Steve and Bucky keep to themselves, occasionally leaving the Tower to go on short walks around the city, but mostly staying in and catching up on the history they've missed.

One big thing they've missed is the movies - lots and _lots_ of movies. They marathon several a day, bouncing around the different genres; they tend to avoid most action movies, but anything else is fair game. Steve's personal favorites are the cheesy horror and science fiction movies; Bucky likes the comedies the best. During one night, however, they happen upon a romantic comedy that seems much more romantic than comedic. It makes Steve vaguely uncomfortable for some reason he can't place. 

Well, can't place until the hero begins expounding on how the heroine makes him feel. 

Abruptly, Steve realizes that everything the hero is describing, he knows _intimately_. He feels those same emotions every time he looks at Bucky. The realization makes him freeze, mind simultaneously blank and racing. 

Bucky, for his part, is completely oblivious to Steve's inner turmoil, but when he catches him giving him weird looks over the next few minutes he doesn't even think about holding his tongue. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Steve says. "I just - can I try something?" 

Bucky blinks, but relaxes back into the couch, watching Steve with a curious expression. "Sure."

They've never done this before, but Steve takes a deep breath for courage before he leans down and carefully presses his lips to Bucky's in a chaste kiss. 

It's their first ever kiss and Bucky doesn't even manage to kiss back; he's too busy sucking in a sharp breath and reeling away from Steve to even think about it. "Steve," he breathes. "What--?"

"I love you," Steve blurts, without any eloquence whatsoever. 

Now Bucky does a rather good impression of a fish. "Steve," he says again, suddenly hoarse. It seems to be all he can say.

"I'm sorry I didn't say it earlier," Steve says, face heating up. "I didn't know that's what - what I was feeling. About you." 

"But you know now?" Bucky asks. "Are you sure?"

"I do, and I am," Steve says with a firm nod. 

"Right," Bucky says, kind of dazed, but he gets a hand on Steve's arm and pulls him just a little closer. "Maybe we should try that again, then."

"Depends," Steve hedges. "You going to kiss me back this time?" 

Bucky laughs. "I promise."

"Good," Steve murmurs, already leaning in. 

Bucky meets him halfway, and when their lips touch it's nothing like he thought it would be. With a scant few exceptions their fucking has been just that: fucking, hard and fast and rough more often than not. But this is soft, searching, like they're just getting to know each other - and maybe, Bucky thinks as he tangles a gentle hand in Steve's hair, they are.


End file.
